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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23862904">The Bet</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/squadrickchestopher/pseuds/squadrickchestopher'>squadrickchestopher</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>A disgusting amount of bug guts, Awesome Clint Barton, Bets &amp; Wagers, Bucky Barnes Feels, Clint Barton Feels, Competition, Deaf Clint Barton, Falling In Love, First Dates, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Men in Black references, One Shot, POV Bucky Barnes, Prompt Fill, Romance, Secret Crush, Short &amp; Sweet, The Avengers Are Good Bros, graphic descriptions of bug guts, i am not kidding about the guts tho, it started out as a shooting competition and then turned into bug murder so, winterhawk - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 22:40:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,429</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23862904</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/squadrickchestopher/pseuds/squadrickchestopher</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>While on a mission to destroy some truly horrifying bug/man hybrids, Clint and Bucky make a bet on who’s the better shooter, with some…interesting outcomes. </p>
<p>Or, a short Winterhawk fic featuring romance, banter, and a thoroughly disgusting amount of bug guts.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>196</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Bet</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Promted by Cielo_Notturno__Liriel (thank you!)</p>
<p>
  <a href="https://my.w.tt/rk2VAe8cb6">Translated into Vietnamese by Yonguu</a>
</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Hey Bucky,” Clint says, his voice sounding slightly tinny over the earpiece. “Buuuucky.”</p>
<p>Bucky doesn’t answer, preoccupied as he is with knocking out the Baddie of the Week. Or <em>baddies</em>, rather, as there’s way more than one. They’re gross, and <em>gooey</em>, and Bucky is sincerely regretting letting Clint talk him into coming along. <em>It’ll be fun, </em>he’d said. <em>All we gotta do is blow up a mad scientist’s lab. How hard can it be?</em></p>
<p>“Famous last words,” Bucky mutters. They’d blown up the lab, sure, but not before Mr. Mad Scientist had released his latest work—a thousand horrific bug/man combinations with armored shells and a taste for human flesh. He shoots another one, scowling as it turns and the bullet ricochets off the armored shell.</p>
<p>“Bucky,” Clint wheedles. “C’mon, I know you can hear me.”</p>
<p>A bug-man lands on him, then, and Bucky lets out a <em>very</em> manly shriek as the pincers get way too close to his face for comfort. He grapples with it for a second, then finally maneuvers his combat knife up into its soft underbelly—the only vulnerable spot on the bastards—and slices hard. The bug-man emits some kind of guttural howl, and green guts spill all over Bucky’s uniform with the most horrific squelching noise he’s ever heard in his life. “Oh god,” he says, thoroughly disgusted. “Oh god, oh god, get it off, get it off, get it <em>off</em>—“</p>
<p>Clint is laughing at him over the comms. Bucky scowls up at the building he’s perched in and shoves the dead bug-man off. “Shut the fuck up, Barton.”</p>
<p>“Sorry,” Clint says, but he doesn’t sound sorry at all<em>. </em>“You should’ve seen your face though, god, it was absolutely <em>priceless</em>—“</p>
<p>“Shut up,” Bucky says again, retrieving his knife. “The fuck are you even doing up there, anyway? You’re supposed to be sniping these things.”</p>
<p>“I am sniping them,” Clint says, sounding a little petulant. “But they’re fast little fuckers.”</p>
<p>“Right,” Bucky says, whipping his gun up and shooting another in the face. It rears up, and Bucky puts three shots in its guts. “Make your excuses, Barton.”</p>
<p>“I’m not making excuses. I’ve killed twelve so far.”</p>
<p>“Twelve? I’m on seventeen.” He ducks and spins, then knifes another. “Eighteen.”</p>
<p>“Oh, that’s how it’s gonna be?” There’s a few grunts of effort, and then a slightly breathless, “Fifteen.”</p>
<p>“You did <em>not</em> just shoot three in a row,” Bucky says, but then he jumps over an upturned car and sees the bodies. “Okay, maybe you did.”</p>
<p>Clint snorts. “Of course I did. I’m an excellent shot.”</p>
<p>“You’re okay. I’m better.”</p>
<p>“What? You are not.”</p>
<p>“Am too.”</p>
<p>“Are not.”</p>
<p>Bucky tackles a bug-man and stabs him, wincing in disgust as more guts spray over him. He’s gonna have to burn these clothes. “Wanna bet?”</p>
<p>“Sure,” Clint agrees. “There’s a thousand of these guys, right? Let’s see who kills the most.” An arrow snaps past Bucky and lodges into the mouth of a bug-man behind him. “That’s seventeen, by the way.”</p>
<p>“Twenty,” Bucky says as he empties a clip into another one.</p>
<p>“If you insist.”</p>
<p>“Twenty for <em>me</em>, birdbrain. You count your own.” He ducks behind a wall and catches his breath for a moment. “Did you signal the others? We could use a Stark ex machina at any point.”</p>
<p>“Ooh, look who’s got the SAT words. Yes, I called them. They’re coming. We have to hold the perimeter. If these things get past us…” he trails off, but Bucky knows the rest. He’s already got a chunk missing from his shoulder where one of them took a <em>bite</em> out of him. If they escape the compound and get out to the public, it’s going to be a major disaster.</p>
<p>“Okay,” Bucky says. “We can hold it.”</p>
<p>“Yeah we can,” Clint says, his voice grim with determination. Then there’s a twang of the bow and he says, “Twenty-two.”</p>
<p>“Aw, hell.” Bucky gets to work. He takes out five more, mentally debating the merits of using his gun versus the knife. He’s going to run out of bullets at some point, but the knife is a lot more physical, and he’s already starting to tire.</p>
<p>“We didn’t set up parameters,” Clint says suddenly.</p>
<p>“What?” Bucky grabs a nearby chunk of rock and hurls it into another bug-man.</p>
<p>“I—“ Clint cuts off. There’s the sound of a scuffle, and then a small explosion.</p>
<p>“Clint!” Bucky yells, ducking a pair of swiping pincers. “Answer me, are you—“</p>
<p>“Fine,” Clint says, and relief fills Bucky. “One got a little close. I kicked it off the ledge and used an exploding arrow.” He groans in annoyance. “It knocked out my right hearing aid too, I <em>just</em> got these.”</p>
<p>“Be careful,” Bucky says, fighting the urge to throw up as more guts spill across his shoes. He’s gonna have to burn those too. Shame. He liked them.</p>
<p>Clint huffs. “I’m fine. Anyway. About that bet.”</p>
<p>“What about it?”</p>
<p>“You're not going to, but what do you want if you win?”</p>
<p>Bucky thinks about it while slashing his way through a small swarm of bug-men. “You have to admit I’m the better shot,” he says. “In front of the whole team. I want you to sing my praises to the goddamn moon. Also, you’re buying me coffee for the next month.”</p>
<p>“Ouch,” Clint says, but Bucky can hear the grin in his voice. “Alright. I can do that.”</p>
<p>“Good, because you’re going to.”</p>
<p>“Am not,” Clint shoots back. An arrow streaks through the darkness, accompanied by the shriek of a bug-man Bucky hadn’t even seen. “You’re welcome, by the way.”</p>
<p>“Thank you.” Bucky rolls behind a wall. “And not that <em>you’re</em> going to win, but what’s your end of it?”</p>
<p>“Oh, it’s easy,” Clint says. “<em>When</em> I win, you have to go on a date with a person of my choice.”</p>
<p>Bucky groans. “I hate dating.” He’s been on a few with both genders, but nothing has really come of them. Honestly, he’s still trying to work out some internalized homophobia, not to mention deal all the shit that Hydra put him through. Most of his dates end in an awkward hug and a ‘well, this was fun,’ and then he goes home alone. “Who?”</p>
<p>“Not telling,” Clint says, and there’s a distinct slicing sound over the comms, followed by an, “Eww, oh my god, okay, you were right, that’s <em>disgusting</em>.”</p>
<p>“Told you so,” Bucky chuckles. Then he’s distracted for a few minutes by a coordinated attack. He comes out the other side of it with eight bodies more to his count and a nasty gash on his flesh arm. “That’s forty-two, by the way.”</p>
<p>“Aww, cute. I’m at fifty.”</p>
<p>“What? You are not. Stop lying.”</p>
<p>“James Buchanan Barnes, how dare you call me a liar.”</p>
<p>Bucky whirls on instinct and puts his foot through the underside of a bug-man. His leg crushes right through it, and he feels the warmth swell <em>into</em> his boot, which has to be the worst feeling in the entire world. “I just call it like I see it, Clinton Francis Barton.”</p>
<p>He hears Clint shudder over the comms. “Okay, new rule. No full name calling. I just had flashbacks to being in elementary school.”</p>
<p>Bucky laughs. “You started it.” He yanks his foot free with a horrific sucking sound. “Ugh, <em>gross</em>.”</p>
<p>“Why are they so squishy?” Clint asks. “Seriously. Like it’s bad enough that they fly, and are armored, and like to <em>eat</em> people. Was it also necessary to stuff them with gooey guts?”</p>
<p>“You’d have to ask Mr. Mad Scientist,” Bucky says, wincing as he steps and his boot <em>squelches</em>. He fights back a gag. “Personally, I wouldn’t have made bug-people hybrids at all.”</p>
<p>“Mr. Mad Scientist is dead,” Clint says.</p>
<p>“Are you sure?”</p>
<p>“I’m standing by his head, and his body is about ten feet the other direction, so yeah. Pretty sure.”</p>
<p>“Damnit.” Bucky shakes his head and loads his last clip. “Steve’s gonna be pissed, we were supposed to bring him in.”</p>
<p>“One of the bug guys got him. It was nasty. Also kind of poetic.” He pauses. “Sixty-one. I’m totally winning this thing.”</p>
<p>“Oh no you don’t,” Bucky says, feeling a second wind coming on. “Not on my watch.”</p>
<p>He strikes out with a new fervor, slashing and shooting and wading his way through a literal sea of guts. He loses track of time and his injuries, distracted as he is by thoughts of counting bug bodies and winning the bet. Clint stops talking as well, focusing on his own shots. They check in every few minutes, either by direct question or by cursing loud enough to make the other snicker. Bucky’s always considered himself to be foul-mouthed, but Clint’s <em>creative</em>, and Bucky actually has to pause to laugh when he calls one of them a<em> fucking-little-Edgar-the-Bug-wannabe.</em></p>
<p>“You have seen Men In Black way too often,” Bucky says, once he gets his breath back.</p>
<p>“No such thing,” Clint says. “But I’m so proud of you for recognizing that reference.”</p>
<p>It’s a welcome respite when Steve’s voice crackles over the comms. “Hawkeye. Bucky. Come in.”</p>
<p>“Thank <em>god</em>,” Bucky says, at the same time Clint says, “Get your ass down here Cap, we need your frisbee skills.”</p>
<p>“My…frisbee skills?”</p>
<p>“You heard me.” Clint fires another arrow near Bucky. “Get moving, Mr. Blood and Guts down there is about to be overrun.”</p>
<p>“Am not,” Bucky says, but then he turns around. “Aw, fuck.”</p>
<p>“Hang on,” Stark says. “I see him, Cap. I got it.”</p>
<p>There’s a <em>whooshing</em> sound, and then Stark lands right in front of Bucky, repulsors up. “Manchurian Candidate,” he says by way of greeting. “You look disgusting. What did you do, bathe in one of them?”</p>
<p>“Don’t ask,” Bucky grimaces.</p>
<p>“You are not getting in the Quinjet like that. I just got it cleaned up from the last fight.”</p>
<p>Bucky lunges past him and knifes a bug-man. It screeches and drops dead. “Maybe worry about that later,” he says. “We have a thousand of these to kill.”</p>
<p>“Less than that,” Clint says. “Thanks to my generous contribution.”</p>
<p>“You are <em>not</em> winning this bet,” Bucky growls back, and he starts shooting.</p>
<p>With Stark and Steve’s help, it all goes a lot easier. The armored shells are no match for the repulsor beams, and Steve brought extra ammo for Bucky. Between the four of them, they manage to dispatch the rest of the bug-men within a relatively decent amount of time. When there’s only a few stragglers left, Stark flies up and does a double check of the perimeter. Bucky plants explosive charges into what’s still left of the factory, blowing the remainder of it sky-high. “There,” he says, looking at the rubble. “I think we got them all?”</p>
<p>“Nothing out here,” Stark says. “I’m fifty miles out. Good work, team.”</p>
<p>Steve kicks a bug over. He’s not as gross as Bucky is, but he’s splattered in green goo and looks less than pleased about it. “You okay?”</p>
<p>“One of them bit me,” Bucky says, looking at his shoulder. “It’s not bleeding, though.”</p>
<p>“Ew,” Clint says. “Are you going to turn into one? Is this a zombie movie scenario?”</p>
<p>“Ugh, I hope not.”</p>
<p>Steve examines the wound. “We should take you to SHIELD medical,” he says. “Just so they can monitor it for a few days. Where’s Dr. Cimex?”</p>
<p>“Um,” Clint says. “Well. About that.”</p>
<p>Steve groans. “You <em>killed</em> him?”</p>
<p>“No! One of his bugs did.” Clint pauses, then adds, “His head is here, if you want to examine his brain or something. I can grab it for you.”</p>
<p>“Gross, dude,” Bucky says. “Steve, we tried. There wasn’t anything we could do.”</p>
<p>That gets him a head shake and the patented Steve Rogers Is So Disappointed In You look. “We’ll take a couple bugs,” Steve finally says. “For SHIELD to study.”</p>
<p>“Sure,” Bucky agrees. He points at a relatively intact one. “Help me out.”</p>
<p>They heave the bug back to where the Quinjet is parked, and roll it up inside. Stark lands a few minutes later, carrying Clint, who looks just as tired and bug-covered as Bucky is. Stark deposits him on the ground and lands, flipping his helmet back. “Okay,” he says, eyeing the sheer amount of guts on them. “Nobody sits on anything except the floor, got it?”</p>
<p>“Got it,” Clint mumbles, trooping inside, where he proceeds to drop himself into one of the chairs.</p>
<p>“Barton,” Stark says, “I hate you.”</p>
<p>“You love me.” Clint sits up enough to wiggle out of his quiver. “I’m a goddamn delight of a person.”</p>
<p>They load two more bugs for good measure, then the jet lifts off on its own. Bucky sits in the chair across from Clint, smirking at Stark’s glare, and closes his eyes. “I’m going to be in the shower for a week,” he says. “I might just move in there permanently from now on.”</p>
<p>“Definitely burning these clothes,” Clint agrees. Then he sits up with a interested look on his face. “Hey. What was your final count?”</p>
<p>“If I tell you,” Bucky says, “you’ll just say yours was more so you can win.”</p>
<p>Clint puts a hand on his chest in mock horror, then scowls at the thin green film now covering it. He shakes it off. “I would never,” he says, but there’s a twinkle in his eye telling Bucky that that was his exact plan. “Alright. We’ll tell Cap separately. He’s too full of justice to lie.”</p>
<p>Bucky laughs, and Clint looks delighted with himself. “Fair,” he agrees, and motions Steve over.</p>
<p>“I don’t want to get involved,” Steve grumbles. “Your last bet nearly ended in an ambulance ride.”</p>
<p>“His fault,” Clint says, pointing at Bucky. “He didn’t tell me he couldn’t get drunk.”</p>
<p>Bucky grins. “You didn’t ask. And anyway, Steve, you’re just deciding the winner. Bet’s over.”</p>
<p>“Fine.” Steve reluctantly gets up, and listens to each of them in turn. Then he drops back down to the floor and says, “Clint wins. Two-hundred and two.”</p>
<p>Clint whoops and punches the air excitedly. “<em>Hell</em> yeah! I’m the greatest.” He points at Bucky. “Say it. Say I’m the greatest.”</p>
<p>“You’re the greatest,” Bucky sighs, but he can’t help smiling.</p>
<p>“Fuck yeah I am,” Clint says, and he rubs his hands together gleefully, producing a nasty squicking noise that makes everybody on the jet wince. “Ugh. Okay. Regret that.”</p>
<p>Steve tosses a gauze bandage at him. “Here.”</p>
<p>“Thank you.” Clint cleans his hands off. “How many did you get?”</p>
<p>“Hundred and ninety-eight,” Bucky admits. “But I think you had an unfair advantage, since you were up higher with a better view. I should’ve had a handicap.”</p>
<p>“Uh, I was shooting arrows in the dark into very small targets, so no. I win. Deal with it.” Clint grins at him.</p>
<p>“What was the bet for?” Stark asks. He’s scraping bug goo out of a gauntlet with a mildly disgusted look on his face.</p>
<p>“I have to go on a date with a person of his choice,” Bucky says.</p>
<p>“Ah. Who is it?”</p>
<p>“Me,” Clint says. He’s still grinning, but there’s a nervousness hidden behind it, and Bucky can see his leg twitching. “Tomorrow afternoon. There’s a board game bar I want to go to. You’re buying the drinks.”</p>
<p>Bucky blinks at him, caught a little off guard. “I have to go out with <em>you</em>?”</p>
<p>The smile slowly fades. “I mean…” Clint shifts, suddenly looking crestfallen. “You don’t <em>have</em> to, I guess. It was just a dumb bet. I’m not going to force…” He trails off.</p>
<p>“I didn’t mean it like that,” Bucky says, trying to salvage the moment. “I’m sorry. I’m just surprised. I didn’t think—“</p>
<p>“He’s had a crush on you since day one,” Stark says, cutting in. “I’m surprised it took him this long to ask. Or for you to notice. I thought you were blind or something, honestly.”</p>
<p>“Tin Can, would you like an arrow in your eyeball?” Clint snaps, turning to him. “Because that can be arranged.”</p>
<p>Bucky looks over at Steve, who is watching the whole scene with a small smile. There’s some sadness behind his eyes, and Bucky feels a pang in his heart. He <em>had</em> wanted Steve, once upon a time. Had wanted him like he wanted air in his lungs. But then Hydra had stolen Bucky, and ruined him, and Steve had moved on to someone else. Bucky doesn’t blame him. He knows they can’t go back. And he doesn’t really want to. He’s changed too much since then. But he’ll always have that soft spot for Steve.</p>
<p>He looks back at Clint, who is staring down at his hands with an unreadable expression. He hadn’t liked Clint at first, to be honest. Too loud, too sarcastic, and always inserting himself into conversations. But somewhere along the way the dislike had changed into begrudging respect for the man’s skills, and the way he conducted himself on missions, and then it had morphed into a certain…fondness, almost. He likes bantering with Clint on the comms, and doing stupid bets with him, and sometimes he finds himself wondering if he could make Clint shut up by <em>kissing</em> him—</p>
<p>“Hey,” Bucky says softly, and he nudges Clint’s foot. “Birdbrain.”</p>
<p>Clint looks up, something like hope shining in that masked expression. “Yeah?”</p>
<p>“I’m not good at board games,” he says. “But I’d love to give it a try. With you. Tomorrow. If you want.”</p>
<p>It’s awkward, as apologies go. But it’s worth it for the beaming look on Clint’s face. “Okay,” is all he says, and Bucky finds himself smiling back.</p>
<p>“About time,” Stark says, getting to his feet. “Guess Steve wins that bet.”</p>
<p>Bucky tilts his head. “Wait. You guys bet? On us?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Stark says. “We have a couple going, to be perfectly honest. I win because I said Bird Boy would be the first to ask, and that you would be awkward about it. Steve wins on the timing of it, he guessed it would be this mission specifically. Nat…” He considers, then says, “Nat loses, actually. She said the first date would be a coffee thing.” He smirks.</p>
<p>Bucky feels like he should have more feelings about this, but there’s just a happy warmth in his chest that slowly spreads through him. “They bet on us,” he says, nudging Clint again.</p>
<p>“I’m both honored and a little sad that I wasn’t in on it,” Clint says. He looks at Bucky, then reaches out and carefully winds their hands together. “I would’ve bet on us too.”</p>
<p>“Well, that fulfills my quota of sappy shit for the day,” Stark says, moving past them to the front. “Touchdown in five. No groping each other in my jet, please.”</p>
<p>“We’ll save it for the showers,” Bucky says, and the startled look on Clint’s face is totally worth the embarrassment he felt getting the words out.</p>
<p>The jet lands with a thump at the top of the tower. Bruce and Nat are waiting for them as the ramp descends. “Nat!” Clint yells, and he throws himself at her. “Hug me!”</p>
<p>She sidesteps his tackle neatly, leaving him to sprawl on the ground in a smear of green goo. “Pass,” she says calmly, eyeing the rest of them. “Should I hose you all off here, or do you promise not to touch anything?”</p>
<p>Clint rolls onto his back, giving her his best kicked-puppy expression. “How could you hurt me like that?”</p>
<p>“You’re <em>green</em>,” Bruce says. “Why?”</p>
<p>Clint snorts. “You’re one to talk.”</p>
<p>Bucky laughs and helps Clint up from the floor. “We got into some bug troubles,” he says. “Guts were involved. It was gross.”</p>
<p>“I can see that,” she agrees, and her eyes flick down to where their hands are still together.</p>
<p>“Steve and I win,” Stark says, walking past her. “Pay up, Romanoff.”</p>
<p>Bruce groans. “Damnit. You couldn’t have waited two weeks?”</p>
<p>“I still can’t believe we weren’t in on this,” Clint says. “Buck and I are like, the kings of betting in this tower. How dare you not include us.”</p>
<p>“It was <em>about</em> you,” Nat says, her voice tinged with fondness and exasperation. “We didn’t want to change the outcome by involving you.”</p>
<p>“Whatever,” Clint says flippantly, and he tugs Bucky’s hand. “C’mon. Showers. You smell.”</p>
<p>“You’re one to talk,” Bucky says. “Eau de splattered bug, anyone? You’re gross."</p>
<p>But he’s still smiling, and they’re still holding hands, and he’s happier than he can remember being in a long time. <em>Worth it</em>, Bucky thinks, looking at Clint’s smile. <em>Totally, totally worth it.</em></p>
<p>Bug guts and all.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm on <a href="https://feedmecookiesnow.tumblr.com/">tumblr!</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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